soft hands.

fuck you fox

i hate buck and mccarver so much i can't even watch the world series. mccarver babbles on meanderingly like one of my dementia patients and buck takes smarmy to new levels.

the world $%#@*%$*ing series!

instead i will huddle in front of the computer speakers with some kickass homemade french onion soup and pete's wanderlust cream ale at the ready, tuned into kmox for some happy homerism.

fuck you fox. i should drop you an irate email.
8:26 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

Ah, little lad, you're staring at my fingers. Would you like me to tell you the little story of right-hand/left-hand? The story of good and evil? H-A-T-E! It was with this left hand that old brother Cain struck the blow that laid his brother low. L-O-V-E! You see these fingers, dear hearts? These fingers has veins that run straight to the soul of man. The right hand, friends, the hand of love. Now watch, and I'll show you the story of life. Those fingers, dear hearts, is always a-warring and a-tugging, one agin t'other. Now watch 'em! Old brother left hand, left hand he's a fighting, and it looks like love's a goner. But wait a minute! Hot dog, love's a winning! Yessirree! It's love that's won, and old left hand hate is down for the count!

what, you've never seen the night of the hunter? too bad old l-o-v-e doesnt always win.

l-o-v-e (stolen from juney. i'm shameless):
What happened with Molina and Ramirez in Game 4? This is why Molina is special: in the third inning, when Ramirez was on second base, he tried to tip off one of his teammates on the pitch location. (don't know who was hitting at the time). Anyway, Ramirez shouted "inside" to let his teammate know where the pitch was coming. Molina waited until Ramirez came up the next time and told him he'd better never do that again when he (molina) was catching, or he'd get knocked on his ass. And Ramirez started babbling and Molina got in his face and asked him if he wanted to go. And Manny backed way off and apologized.

h-a-t-e (apologies to the bobc types because they've seen me rant about this already):
"The biggest move, when all was said and done, was the non-move. I think if we get A-Rod [Alex Rodriguez], we don't get here [to the World Series]. I don't question that for a second," said Schilling.

"He's a Hall of Famer, sure. But after getting to know people who a) play with him and have played with him, I don't think it would have worked here. I think this clubhouse would have been a much different place, and I don't think it would have been better, given the personalities involved."

way to kick a guy when he's down. that's wonderfully christian behavior.

and considering how many rumors there are that have been flying around forever about what a pain in the ass teammate curtis is, that's a mighty bold statement to make.

every time i swallow my objectivity enough to think i can get over his horrible persona, to think that i can ignore it enough to credit him on the field and for the work he's done with ALS (and considering i effusively appreciate every little kindness somebody shows my sick people, that's saying a lot) he comes up with something lower and more inane than the last pile of crap he spewed. most people's talent can overcome that; his cannot.

i didn't think i could possibly dislike him more than when he was with arizona. last winter when there were rumors swirling about him potentially coming to new york, i had reservations about being able to look past this very thing. world series be damned - i'm glad he never became a yankee.


8:58 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

the momeraths outgrabe

the jabberwocky's off the backs of those who shall not be named. now what? i admit i've long been curious about the impact of winning on the culture of its minions, and how evil empire lite will maneuver this offseason.

speaking of offseason - finally! i can concentrate on that instead of being distracted by these pesky interleague games.
7:39 AM :: 1 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

excuse me, but when did the bodies of the world beating st louis cardinals become inhabited by the same soul sucking space aliens that sabotaged the yankees hopes? rude.


8:10 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

i didn't catch the tom hanks thing.

lord. if jimmy stewart rose from the dead and rallied the nation from faneuil hall i wouldn't bat an eyelash.

It didn't help that America's prom king, Tom Hanks himself, showed up on TV tonight to declare his love for the Red Sox. "I'm an American," said Hanks. "There's nothing wrong with the city of St. Louis. They are a lovely people, they have lovely colors on their baseball uniforms -- but come on! I want Billy Buckner to have a good night's sleep for crying out loud!" Two seconds later David Ortiz hit a long drive foul, then protested that it was fair. As the umps were huddling on the field, I half-expected them to turn to Hanks up on the Green Monster. Hanks would yell out, "Come on! Do it for Billy Buckner! Do it for America!" Whereupon first-base ump Brian Gorman would circle his index finger: home run!

maybe i should just marry RBN. can i marry a blog?
8:00 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

found at the best website ever, overheard in new york:

Statler: My kid just told me he's making the ultimate sacrifice.
Waldorf: Really?
Statler: He told me that it'd be okay for the Red Sox to beat the Yankees, as long as George Bush loses the election.
Waldorf: My god.

--14th Street YMCA
7:18 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

i'm glad someone else sees it.

from redbird nation:

As much as the Sox impressed me as batsman, they impressed me far less as gentlemen. I know, I know, gentlemanliness is a quaint notion nowadays, but what was with that slide into second by Orlando Cabrera, when he came up elbow-first? (Thank God Reggie Sanders reprimanded him the next inning.) The other bush-league moment was Manny Ramirez trotting to first on a tie-breaking single with his finger telling the world he was #1. A one-run game in the seventh and you're acting like you just hit a walk-off homer? Ridiculous.

tim mccarver came out of his demented fog for a moment to say something sensible for a change: manny would have been standing on second with a double if he hadn't been so busy congratulating himself.

and twitter:

Fortunately the baseball gods got their revenge an inning later, when Manny made Skates Smith look like Elvis Stojko out in left field. I noticed he wasn't holding up the #1 sign as he was tripping over himself on Larry Walker's liner.
12:55 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

some bits in the daily news, going from great:

- shopping brown to atlanta, praise the lord. hey, can they get leo mazzone for him?

- mel doing his usual pondering about retirement. you're a nice fella mel but go, already.

to okaaaay:

- lousiana lightning to replace him? uh. i love him as much as the next girl but what's he done in a coaching capacity besides hang around at spring training? what's wrong with neil allen, or gil patterson?


- they're "resigned" to trading vazquez, and reinvestigating the randy johnson route. they let jeff weaver hang around trying to get straightened out, why not give javy that chance? it's not his fault joe torre put him in a position to fail. what's the point of getting a new pitching coach if there's no one left who really needs to be helped? and RJ? great, make this team even older. they can sit in their geri chairs and watch while javy pitches his ass off for another team.
12:38 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

sometimes i hate the internet.

but mostly, i love it.

edited to add the latter linked post:

At least you're out in the open now. My heart bleeds for all of you whining, sniveling, spoiled crybabies. I'm not talking about people who are upset about this loss and especially the way it went down. That's normal, no one likes to see their team lose, especially not on their homefield to their biggest rival in monumental fashion.

I'm talking to all the people who are worried about going to work or school and taking some shit, all the people who are acting as if the team intentionally betrayed them, all the people who seem to think that 'Yankee class' is something that they don't need to exhibit, all the people who think it's the Yankees God given right to always win and always beat Boston. Guess what, dipshits? If 8 teams had made the playoffs every year since 1918 the Sox would have likely beat us quite a few times in the post season by now and other teams would likely have blown 3 -0 leads. That's why it's happened in hockey before, because they didn't have a 70 year era where only 2 teams made the playoffs.

I'm really disgusted by some of the shit I've heard from people who call themselves Yankees fans over the last 24 hours. The same people who were chanting 'MVP' when Sheff was at bat are now trashing him. The same people who were ready to suck ARod and Matsui's dicks 6 short days ago are now calling them assholes with no pride. Suddenly a team that came from behind to win 61 times is accused of having no heart.

Well fuck you. For the first time in my life I'm embarrased to be a Yankees fan and it's not because of the team, it's because of the assclowns who think that if the team didn't win it's an affront to their personal right to have a victory parade every year, and that each player and coach who didn't perform perfectly should be crucified for selling out Yankee Pride. In case no one informed you, the Yankees don't have exclusive rights to dramatic comebacks or storybook endings and they're not immune to embarrassing failure.

I just wish more of you frontrunners would add 'bandwagoner' to your repertoires and bail altogether, because none of you deserve to take pleasure from the successes that will come in the future. I hope someone breaks into your house tonight and steals all your Yankees gear.

edit again to clarify i didn't write the above, although i wish i had. i couldn't have channeled my rage so neatly.
5:25 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

i promised myself i'd stay away from the sports media in general, but my dreamworld hot stove started heating up not long after, you know, The Thing happened, and i couldn't resist a peek at a jersey paper:

It wasn't until someone else asked about, oh, you know, playing center field at Yankee Stadium, that Beltran cracked a smile.

"That's something," Beltran said. "I would like to see if that's going to happen. I don't know if the Yankees have an interest in me or not. That's something we'll want to see in the off-season."

And when he was asked if he thought he looked good in pinstripes, the smile cracked even wider. "I don't know," Beltran said. "What do you think?"

and i smiled, really smiled, for the first time in days.
11:11 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

10:16 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink




on the radio all i hear are champagne bottles clinking and boyish shrieking and

scotty's voice is all trembly!

interview guy: he got you in the face!
scotty: yeah. again.
11:35 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

swing, and get up, get up, get up baby! rolen gives the cardinals a 4 to 2 lead! lifting, lifting it to cardinals nation!

thank you saint louis cardinals, for helping me remember what The Baseball Feelings mean, in what's been a bitter bitter few days...


10:28 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

still mad

fuck you list: people blaming mo, people screaming trade javy, trade gordon, trade quantrill.

you all can go fuck yourselves for being delusional enough to think that the abusive overuse of a trio of relievers formerly known as a three headed monster (quantrill was injured right away in japan and still battled through it; gordon i'd wager had a better goddamn regular season than most closers; and mo was mo, which is why we're all so stunned when he fails) + a guy who threw 230 innings last year with a freakishly bad 2nd half sans a real pitching coach were responsible for this humiliation. you're all out of your motherfucking "what have you done for me lately" minds.
9:50 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

Seven years ago I became a Christian, and tonight God did something amazing for me. I tried to be as tough as I could, and do it my way, Game 1, and I think we all saw how that turned out. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to do this alone. And I prayed as hard as I could. I didn't pray to get a win or to make great pitches. I just prayed for the strength to go out there tonight and compete, and He gave me that. I can't explain to you what a feeling it was to be out there and to feel what I felt.

dear curtis montague,

so it was an act of god, huh? you know a lot about acts, don't you. there's nothing i hate more than a hypocrite. unless it's an ugly hypocrite. and god really doesn't love ugly.

wishing someone would suture your gaping maw shut,
9:10 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

what the wise mister cliff said:

...the Red Sox 86 years of misery has not come exclusively at the hands of the Yankees. Sure the Yankees beat them out for the pennant on the final day of the 1949 season, beat them in a one game playoff after a tremendous comeback in the standings in 1978 and defeated them in the 1999 and 2003 ALCS. But the Yankees had to watch from home as the Sox lost to the Cardinals in 1946 and 1967, the Indians in 1948 and 1995, the Reds in 1975, the Mets in 1986, and the A's in 1988 and 1990, just as I hope they will be home watching as either Roger Clemens and Jeff Bagwell's Astros or descendents of Slaughter and Gibson in St. Louis stop them short of the World Championship once again.
6:33 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

enjoy melodrama

three outs away from a sweep to... to probably what is the most embarrassing team-wide display of grabbing your ankles as i have ever seen?

pass the valium, please.
10:44 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

dear 2004 new york yankees,

i just want you to know it's okay with me if you choke; in fact, it's okay if you go down as the biggest chokers in baseball history, maybe in all of sports. you've given me a lot of joy this year, and i'll still love you no matter how this all ends up. it's okay if the sox beat you, but not if you beat yourselves. and that's where this is quickly going. do you realize that in the event of a sox win i'm going to have to hear about what a warrior that beer-gut chicken-legged drama queen motherfucker is for the rest of my life? that saggybritches kevin millar is never ever going to shut the fuck up ever again? that i'm going to see that replay of arod's ill-advised swipe in my dreams? that is, when i manage to sleep again.

like i said, i'll still love you. but know who won't? george. i can smell his panic from here, and he will ruin things more than he already has. please, don't give him that chance.

emotionally distancing myself already,


dear fans in attendance tonight,

since the whole hater world has visual evidence of a handful of jackasses making the rest of us look bad, thus validating in their narrow minds that we're all terrible people, well - might as well make it a party. lowe is going, and nasty stuff or not, he's still a headcase. if i don't hear MEN-TAL GID-GET in full effect, i'm going to be more disappointed than i already am, and that's pretty inconceivable at the mo.

7:49 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

i'm sorry you had to witness that mortifying shitfest, juney.
12:09 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

and all you can do is laugh


MR EFFICIENT (1-0, 1.29 ERA) VS DAS BOOT (0-1, 18.00 ERA)


*unless you're a member of the fox crew not named al leiter, or an umpire. you fucks feel free to get fucked lost.
10:11 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

you didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?

hey shannon, come back from the ledge. and i thought i was bad. this isn't to say i don't feel like i've been punched in the stomach, or don't have the irrepressible urge to bitchslap 25 guys twice my size. but let's put it behind us. you know they already have.

one more.
7:36 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink


30 helens agree [john donovan, too]: hands down one of the all around worst games in memory. i think i've been to little league games that had better execution of baseball fundamentals. one of the few redeeming qualities about this pile of crap was that my team's pitching managed to be a little less shitty than the oppositions and ultimately won out.

don't get me wrong. i am happy. in fact, i'm fucking ecstatic. the offensive explosion made me see stars, made my toes curl, all that sexy stuff. i delight in the demoralization of the sox, in the silence of however many they manage to cram into that sardine can of a ballpark, as much as the next girl, but come on.

from the boston globe:

Fifth Inning: Before the game, Howie Long, in town for Sunday’s Patriots-Seahawks game, and the rest of the FOX NFL crew were hanging out down by the Red Sox dugout. Long was giving Mets pitcher Al Leiter, who by all accounts has been great in the booth, some advice about the broadcasting business. Hopefully he passed some on to McCarver.

They should have Francona miked for this game. I can only imagine the Boston manager. “Get an out. Please, can’t someone get a &^%$#@& out?” 13-6 Yankees. The 19 runs combined thus far set an ALCS record for most runs in a game. Can we mention it is the FIFTH INNING?

one to go.
7:22 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink


7:48 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

wading through the papers this morning, seems like everyone in new york's reverted to WE'RE DOOMED because of the rainout. makes me want to take out a full page ad in the post: SHUT THE FUCK UP. praise baby jesus i can always count on dan shaughnessy for a sweet dose of THE RED SOX ARE DOOMED.

and in the event all the chickenlittleitis has made one of you bridge jumping bitches want to change your, uh, stripes, this is your lucky day! because YANKEE HATER GEAR IS ON SALE! STOCK UP WHILE YOU CAN!

apparently, the yankees don't just suck, they $uck. get it? in case you're an idiot yankee fan and don't, provided is an impressively detailed litany of reasons why they suck $uck:

Reasons why the YANKEES SUCK :
- The Yankees don’t suck because they have a bad baseball team they $uck because they are located in the largest U.S. city (8 million citizens, over twice as large as #2 L.A.) and by default enjoy an enormous financial advantage over other teams. They $uck because they leverage their financial advantage so successfully. [because it's the current team's fault the orioles were relocated and renamed all those years ago, and that the organization has more often than not been a well-run machine.]

- Of course the worse example of their financial strength occurred on January 3, 1920 when the Yankee$ bought Babe Ruth from the Red Sox for $125,000 and a $350,000 loan against the mortgage on Fenway Park. It wasn’t hard work that started their success but $$$$$. [and of course it's the yankees fault harry frazee decided to sell the babe. interestingly:"Frazee did sell Babe Ruth to the Yankees, but at the time, it seemed like a reasonable trade. There was no outcry from fans or opponents or media members when it happened. In fact, some people thought the Yankees made a mistake in picking up a player whom Stout calls “Carl Everett with a smile." ]

- On November 21, 1934 the Yankee$ bought Joe DiMaggio from the San Francisco Seals of the Pacific Coast League for $50,000. [but the red sox purchased his baby brother dom dimaggio for $75,000, and that's, you know, cool]

- In April 2003 the Yankee$ imposed a tax on up to 3 million New York metro area homes when their YES cable network began to charge $2 per month to each Cablevion cable subscriber. This should result in an estimated $200 million dollars in revenue to the Yankee$ from cable operators and advertising versus a league wide average of $22 million per team. [NESN makes no money? i guess it all gets funneled to the jimmy fund. great guys, those red sox.]

- The Yankee$ have always had more money than other teams but the advent of free-agency and cable television subscription revenue has allowed the Yankee$ to buy just about any player they want. [... this is just getting redundant.]

there is also a list of purchased players who have helped the yankees in their quest for world domination, which inexplicably includes the likes of hideki irabu, raul mondesi, denny neagle, jose canseco, and jeff weaver, who all belong on the yankees short list of stupid investments.

personally, i'm ecstatic not to be a fan of a team with exactly one homegrown player on the current roster and an illustrious history of dumb decision making that rivals the mets. but hey, to each his own, right?
11:43 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

warm fuzzy piece on the arod-mientakjerowuarywuz high school friendship in the hartford courant:
One thing Mientkiewicz remembers Rodriguez could not do as a teenager was dress. Rodriguez now has an endless collection of brilliant suits.

"Let's put it this way - a lot of my clothes ended up in his closet," Mientkiewicz said. "Some of the stuff he wore was like rookie dress-up day. Thank God we had to wear a uniform for school. I wish I could get into his closet now."

Rodriguez, always the All-America type, was a frequent visitor at the Mientkiewicz home, which was a few minutes from the school. He would charm Doug's mother, whom he still visits occasionally.

yeah, he looks like a momma charmer. i mean, he's got my momma in his pocket and she's only seen him on the teevee.


11:39 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

do the duque!

"He is, first and foremost, a pitcher. And when he can't pitch, Hernandez stops being himself."

and a torre anecdote. i love anecdotes:

Torre knows how important Hernandez was in a previous ALCS Game 4 back in 1998, Hernandez's first season with the Yankees. They were behind 2-1 in the series to the Indians, but Hernandez pitched the Yankees into a series tie and they ended up winning it in six games.

"I remember going down to the coffee shop that morning and having a late breakfast with my wife," Torre said. "There was Duque moving dishes around and helping people with their breakfasts, and I thought, `Well, one thing about him, I know he's not afraid.' He was dynamite that day."
11:32 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink


remember what he did for you, kid. not just what he did against your team...

With Rivera, it starts more with marvel than affection, more with awe and appreciation than feeling.

The guy has been scary-good for such a very long time. He plays the game at such a perfect pitch. To deny him is to turn away from some magical baseball something.

Years from now, when you sit your grandkids on your lap and tell them stories of baseball in your day, focus on the Diamondbacks and the Angels pulling longshot victories in the early oughts. Tell them about Bonds, Maddux, and Pedro. Gloss over the Yankee titles, downplay their run. But do linger long enough to tell them you saw Rivera pitch.

Tell them about weird, skidding cutters in pressure-packed air. Tell them about a wiry frame and perfectly calibrated physics.

In 18 postseason series coming into this fall, he had an ERA of 0.79 (and this year, it's hanging tight at 0.75). Tell them that.

Tell them about watching a guy who was consistent enough and dominant enough to make you think paradigm shift, to make you think hitting the target and fooling the hitter is easily done, no matter what the circumstances.

Tell them something as good as this is its own sweet thing, uniforms and allegiances be damned, and that, hokey as it sounds, you swear there was something inspiring, something we-can-put-a-man-on-the-moon inspiring about watching Rivera set 'em up and mow 'em down time and again.

Fifty pitches and three innings last Thursday night. Tell them that.

Tell them ...

He was too thin to do what he did.

He didn't have enough pitches to do what he did.

And he never, not once, looked as scared as he should have been.

You can't help but marvel at what Mo does with that thin wiry frame.
Say all that.

Try your hand as a poet, get all imagistic. Talk about scythes cutting rye in the dying light, about cobra strikes snapping the air, and fish flying lean and low above the waves.

Trot out some pop, too. Invoke Batman's sculpted blend of grace and oomph, or maybe the searing, straight-to-the-heart voice of Thom Yorke.

Then explain that while all this stuff dazzled you, made you tip your cap in Rivera's direction, it had seemed so automatic for so long that you had a hard time coming around to really caring about it.

And then, if you think you're up for it, describe him crying on the mound at the end of Game 7 the other night. Say he was in child's pose, like the yoga master he is, and that those shoulders that lock and launch missiles were just shaking skin and bone then. Say the floodgates were open and the rush of want, fear, need and courage that went into every pitch he'd thrown came down the hill in a torrent. Say you didn't just admire him then. Say you felt for him. Say he was mighty likeable right that minute, mighty and likeable.
[eric neel]
9:44 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

rained. out.

well, fuck. :/
8:15 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

- as i watched pedro the other night, he reminded me, more than anything, of ...... mike mussina? in that Mr. Almost kind of way; dominant, but not enough. afterwards he also made a comment comparable to moose's infamous "60 feet, 6 inches line": "I can't do anything if we don't score runs," he said. "I can only do whatever possible to keep my team in the game, and from there on, it's up to them." not for a moment do i believe his mango tree humble pie, but no matter how much i dislike the guy and the things he spews, his eloquence makes me tilt my head in grudging admiration.

- naturally it ain't over til it's over, but note an early entrant for this year's potential killer B: should mark bellhorn have been able to get glove on that throw from varitek? i says yes - it nearly hit jeter in the face, how much more accurate did it have to be?

- the who's your daddy chants were relentless. RE-LENT-LESS. color me impressed. i felt for sox fans having to listen to it all night. or i would have, if having to listen to the aural equivalent of chinese water torture - nonstop YANKEES SUCK from boston to east bumblefuck - hadn't hardened me beyond phantom empathy.

- during the gamethread (that shall go unlinked because i am kinda ashamed of my undeniably schizophrenic gamewatching tendencies), i remarked that i am overcome by an eerie sense of calm... i had more agita while moose was pitching a perfecto with an 8 run lead than i do right now. lieber was rolling. helmet olerud didn't surprise me, that swing that porch... it's appropriate somehow that possibly the two most mellow, aw shucks, fade-into-the-woodwork type guys, the antitheses of everything the red sox are, were instrumental in determining the outcome of the game. props go to yankees uncanny knack for investing in guys otherwise relegated to the reclamation project heap.

- the sports guy is keeping a hilarious running commentary on the alcs, and to my delight, even the sports gal has noticed the weird arod purple lips phenomenon.

- the hartford courant thinks crash davis is a character from field of dreams. twitter.

- words to live by: "Respect is important to me ... the respect starts in your own clubhouse. Even if a club you are playing is in last place, respect that fact that somebody can kick your butt at any time, and just don't take anyone for granted." [joe torre]

- tanyon sturtze's niece is hardcore. a girl after my own heart:
Tanyon's most ardent supporter might just be his 11-year-old niece, Tiana, Heather's daughter. Last week Tiana's school held a "Red Sox Day" to show support for the team during its first-round series with Anaheim. A defiant Tiana went to school wearing every piece of Yankees apparel she could find.

- back to boston we go. worried, no. cautiously confident, yes:
A team from New York has been in a playoff series at Fenway Park just three times -- in 1986, when the Mets played in the World Series here, and in 1999 and 2003, when the Yankees came north for the ALCS.

All three times, the visitors took two out of the three games here -- a feat, if matched by the Yankees this weekend, would allow them to pop corks on Boston turf.

So while the Red Sox spoke excitedly about returning to Fenway for the next three games after losing Games 1 and 2 at the Yankee Stadium, history shows the home field is not much of an advantage this time of year for Boston.

The Red Sox are 23-23-1 all time at Fenway Park in the playoffs.

"I'm not sure you can put too much stock into that," Red Sox veteran Ellis Burks said. "It seems like every year we do well at home, and this year was no exception."
The Red Sox had a 55-26 record here in the regular season, good for a .679 winning percentage, winning 18 of their final 23 games. They led the majors in batting average (.306), on-base percentage (.378) and runs per game (6.4) at home.

Only one team won more games at their home park -- the Yankees, of course.
[newark star ledger]

- fuck you roger clemens dept: astros down two games. scotty rolen helping to bring the pain and somewhere, juney is sighing.

- red soz fever is REAL, sez the boston globe.

- the chicago tribune seems to feel the same way i do about the nlcs/alcs scheduling bullshit:
...the geniuses who bring you Major League Baseball could not bring themselves to schedule the two baseball games at two different times.

They couldn't begin one game at 5 p.m. and the other at 8.

No, they had to begin both of these 2004 playoff contests simultaneously.

So if I wanted to watch both—and I did—I had the following options:

I could unplug one of my TVs at home and stack it atop my other TV, aiming my "mute" button at whichever game had cut to a commercial.

Or, I could use my really cool "Picture in Picture" feature to watch two shows at once, if I could just find my TV's manual to find out how "Picture in Picture" works.

Or, I could go to a bar, find a stool at the midpoint of a TV on my left (Yankees vs. Red Sox) and a TV on my right (Cardinals vs. Astros), tell everybody else at the bar to shut up so I can hear, ask the bartender to turn up the volume on one TV and down on the other, then stagger my way home after 3½ hours of swallowing 3½ beers, a basket of buffalo wings and the guy on the next stool's cigarette smoke.


10:28 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

i have a hundred more things i want to say but i have no time this morning. saw this in the daily news though, and had to share with my loves:

Either Jorge Posada has been reading George Orwell's "1984" about "Big Brother watching" or he's simply seen too much of the Bill Murray movie "Groundhog Day."

The folks at Fox Sports sure would like to know why the Yankee catcher saw fit to stomp out and destroy their in-ground mini-cameras in front of home plate that are designed to give a different view of the hitters.

According to Fox officials, it all happened in the first two innings of Game 1 and they have the videotape to prove it. Before the game, Fox technicians noticed that someone had pushed dirt all over the front of the camera lenses so that they weren't able to function. But after an aide rushed out to clear the dirt off the lenses in the top of the first inning, Posada was seen covering them all up again. Then, after Fox crewmen cleared them again in the top of the second inning, Posada walked over and was caught on tape stomping on the lenses, rendering them non-functional.

The special cameras have been approved for use through an agreement with Fox, MLB, the players' association and the Yankees, and upon being alerted to the incident by Fox officials, Chuck Torres , MLB's Manager of Broadcasting Operations ,went to Yankee GM Brian Cashman and Joe Torre , who reportedly told Posada to cease and desist.

Just why Posada was so determined to stomp out the cameras is unclear, although one baseball official said there was talk that both Posada and Red Sox catcher Jason Varitek thought the cameras were being used to steal the catchers' signs. "Either that," the official said, "or Jorge just didn't like the idea of having his cup on national TV."

Originally published on October 14, 2004

i really was wondering why they weren't using the diamond cams :D

now if only someone could kick that asinine talking baseball gimmick.
8:12 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

they COULDN'T make it easy, could they. not that it ever was, in my mind - i was nervous when it was still a perfect game with an 8 run lead, that is how much i respect the red sox offense (and how superstitious i am about broadcasters talking about perfect games makes me. those fox bastards made me made me want to pull a kevin brown on the television by mentioning it every two seconds). disgust at nearly blowing a ginormous lead and having to use mo aside, there is something important to take from this: the yankees won a game everyone expected them to get dominated in. voodoo works. schilling was brought to boston to be the difference maker and failed the first test. his creaky ankle means more is riding on pedro's shaky little shoulders. am i predicting anything? god, no. but don't count your chickens and all that. people bemoan the yankees staff and point to the boston 1-2, but even that guarantees nothing. i guess having seen the presses lost darlings, clemens-wells-pettitte, all lose control of big games makes me leery of that kind of talk.

The Red Sox would be wise to spare themselves the mirage of the late-night rebellion on Mike Mussina's perfect game, the injection of a little uncertainty into a Game 1 that had once looked impenetrable for the Yankees. It was largely irrelevant in the wake of the biggest, boldest truth of the night: The reason they believed this American League Championship Series would be different, this season liberating, had been battered and beaten.

Curt Schilling had been crushed. The way that troubled right ankle left him struggling to produce the power to bring those fastballs beyond a tame 88 miles per hour, bringing his sliders with bite, the Sox suddenly lost the sure thing they believed separated themselves from the Yankees.

"The Yankees beat me," Schilling said in the Sox' clubhouse late Tuesday night. "They beat me. The bell rang and I didn't answer it.

"If I can't go out there with something better than I had in the game tonight, I won't take the ball again."

Whatever drama the Sox delivered late into this 10-7 Game 1 loss, it had to be tempered with the demoralizing first three innings where Schilling was a shell of his greatness. The Yankees delivered a staggering TKO to the Sox' ace, turning all that Sox swagger to uncertainty, turning those World Series plans into downright disarray. The Sox could've lived with losing Game 1, but seeing Schilling - the reason they believed they were finally going to beat the Yankees - get utterly humiliated was a devastating sight.
[bergen record]

other Things:

- moose can still bring it. bad line, great start. i'm just happy he got a postseason win. he's been one of my favorite pitchers since he came up with baltimore, and when he's On, i am a happy girl.
- bernie can still bring it.
- mo never stopped bringing it but i feel the need to bring him up.
- i know you're excited sheff, but please, no more of that chest bumping stuff with arod. you might break him.
- tanyon turned back into a pumpkin.
- the failed orlando cabrera attempt at the jeter jump n' throw had me in hysterics, as did jorge posada showing bunt.
- i have never seen such dumbass strike zones as i have this year.
- who was it that said something like i'm not crazy about those guys who drive in three runs and let in two? i'm looking at you, godziller.
- i love al leiter in the booth. i just wish those other two jackasses would let him say more than 20 words. i guess will forgive him for talking about the no-no, because he sounded genuinely excited.

so i'm not going to be able to watch both the nlcs and the alcs tonight? what kind of bullshit is that?


8:06 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

mariano, you are strength, you are joy. i love you like i will never love any other.
12:16 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

"Baseball hasn't been on my mind since I left New York. My family is my priority. When I go back to New York, I know I have a job to do. At this moment, I think only about my family.

"I'm going to bury my cousins, and after that I go back home.

"The New York Yankees have been tremendous. Major League Baseball has been tremendous. Roger Clemens called to say he had sent flowers. I'm personally going to call everybody to thank them."
[mariano rivera]
7:39 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

"Well, Mussina has like 20 different pitches. So, he throws all of them for strikes. Out of 20, you have to pick one. If he throws it, you don't want to miss it. If you miss it, you're going to have to deal with the other 19. Oh man, you see Posada sometimes taking his glove off to give him some signs. He doesn't have enough fingers on one hand. But that's why he's so good, not too many pitchers can throw 20 different pitches and he can." [david ortiz]

Labels: ,

7:35 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

just reiterating that predictions are dumb. i've seen the improbable sneak up and bite teams in the ass too many times. i will say, ever so boldly, that it will be a torturous knockdown dragout series rife with agita, and i probably won't eat or sleep for a week. i look to mo's sang froid and the ghosts to steel my nerves. and by ghosts i mean i expect the crazy tactician ghosties of billy martin and the ol perfesser camping out in joe torre's skull. edited to add: and speaking of torre, i think that is one undeniable advantage the yankees have.

that said, i am off to purchase one curt schilling figurine and snap its ankle like a twig.
8:35 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

from the I Wish I'd Thought of That Dept, on pedro appearing at the stadium:

The Yankees may want to cue the Zombies' 1968 hit "Time of the Season," just for the chorus:

What's your name?

Who's your daddy?

Is he rich like me?
[ny times]
8:12 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

mariano rivera. light of my life, fire of my pen. my heart is with you.
11:15 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

A child who was 8 years old back in 1987 is 25 now, and probably in law school or driving a truck, beginning to understand how miraculous were the championship seasons of his youth. But pity today's 8-year-old Twins fans: Crushed and in mourning, experimenting with the power of curse words and questioning the love of the parents who brought them into a world in which mighty multimillionaires beat the home team.[star tribune]

this kind of woe-is-us mentality, and not some east coast sneering elitism, is what makes me wonder if them small market types really are losers. you have the joy of watching cy young incarnate every five days, a centerfielder dripping with charisma giving balls-out hustle every day at the expense of his own body, a grieving right fielder who gives all he has despite his sadness, a team full of hungry young guys who obviously love playing together and doing what they do, and you're saying pity the children? fuck you. tell the children exactly what they have, to love it, to appreciate it for what it is, and not what could have been.

i was 8 years old in 1987, and in my elementary school, it was minnesota twins hangers-on and leftover mets frontrunners as far as the eye could see. my team? a laughingstock. 1988, 1989, 1990, 1991, 1992: losing, losing, and more losing. but i had rags, i had donnie baseball, i had dave winfield, and rickey. i had baby bernie, i had scooter (no, not that fucking fox talking baseball travesty) the ever optimistic homer, i had "HOOOLLLY COW!"

93 - things started to shift. 94 - baseball stood still. 95 - fucking edgar. 96 - yall know what happened in 96, and after that. but until then, i knew nothing but losing, which perhaps is the reason i marvel at this ridiculous run, never stop being amazed by the unlikeliness of it knowing the temporal nature of winning (where are the marlins now? those diamondbacks? those blue jays? remember when the indians were actually scary? sure you do!). i know this can't be forever. but should they revert back to the general comedic awfulness of the yankees of my youth i won't be shaking my fist at the big bad world. and i sure as hell i won't be questioning, even sarcastically, the love of my parents. they taught me the value of loyalty.


9:24 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

quotes of the week

"Nobody wants to be in my pants right now."
- juan rincon

"You have to ride a hot guy when you can."
- joe girardi, on gardenhire's bullpen management
8:00 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

"This upper-Midwestern crowd will be loud, but not as rude as they are in New York" redux: because chanting OVER-RATED is a cornfed, middle america brand nicety.

i would write something on the game and all, but i'm still a little breathless.
9:54 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

i giggled

from the VERY HUGE MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL PLAYOFF PREVIEW [thx juney, or i'd have never seen]:

Johan Santana, no matter how great he is, is just one man … and he's facing a whole lineup of big strong men who hit the ball real far when it is pitched in their general direction.

For all the sturm und drang involving the Yankees this year -- What's wrong with the pitching staff? A-Rod isn't CLUTCH enough! Jason Giambi is wasting away like the guy in RoboCop after he falls in the toxic waste! Derek Jeter broke Mariah's heart! -- Joe Torre's boys did the same thing they do every year: Win, with deceptive ease. This is a team that dealt with a disorienting opening series in Japan, a self-destructing rotation, a withering slugger making $11.5 million (and going up!), a historic Jeter slump and a media horde gobbling up any power pellet and ghost it could dredge up. And yet they still notched their second-highest win total of the last 10 years.

This is a lineup that bats Alex Rodriguez second and got an MVP season from Gary Sheffield. And as much as people worry about the rotation, it still features potential Hall of Famer Mike Mussina, a revived Jon Lieber, a dangerous Kevin Brown and the still-fully functioning embalmed corpse of El Duque, who, if he were cut in half, you would discover by counting his rings is, in fact, 83 years old. And -- how could we forget? -- that bullpen, which, thanks to Tom Gordon's lead-in to the indomitable Mariano Rivera, shortens the game to six innings in the postseason … at least.

Johan Santana was the best pitcher in baseball this year, but he is facing one of the best lineups with an undermanned, intimidated team in the bowels of Yankee Stadium. He'll have to be near-perfect twice just for the Twins to even have a slight hope. These are the Yankees. Try as you might, you can't forget that. They will find a way; these guys aren't missing another shot to demoralize the Red Sox because of the Twins, that's for damn sure.


2:57 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

there should be a joe morgan drinking game.

- every time he namedrops the big red machine, drink
- every time the camera shows his eyes all glazed over like he's been puffing on a joint between innings, drink
- every time he says the words small ball, drink
- every time he gets a players name wrong, drink
- every time he gets into "the sky is blue" "no, it's green" type bickerfests with jon miller, drink
- every time he brings up the fact that the yankee rotation is not the same as it was last year, forgetting that ever so formidable 1-4 imploded in 2002, drink

suggestions, additions? feel free.
2:33 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

for those of you who seem to think the yankees formed in 1996: behold, the 1990 team. a team, i might add, i watched with as much fervor as i follow the current one. that's LOVE, motherfuckers.
1:50 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

the only thing more irritating than having to listen to morgan-miller senilely babble on about the proper nomenclature for pretend grass is the wowee zowee tone they take regarding underdog teams, in this case, the twins. blue collar, working class, small market, small ball, scrappy, speedy et cetera ad nauseum. i love hyperbole as much as the next girl, but don't pretend it's something it's not. as karen pointed out, the minorest of minor league boys playing on that team is making the league minimum, which, last i checked, hovered around $300,000. yes, the yankees head that other list there, the payroll one. yes, it's because they're in the biggest media market in the universe, and because they have a turtlenecked megalomaniac fan for an owner, although the fact that yankees more often than not continue to win in spite of his overbearing ways and not because of them might not be readily apparent to haters. still, i would rather have steinbrenner's deep pockets coupled with his desire to win on my side, rather than, say, oh... legendary gabillionaire and cheapskate carl pohlad. imagine if steinbrenner had been successful in his bid to buy the indians? minny might be in a much unhappier place than they are right now.

and don't give me your tired, your poor, your boring good vs evil david vs goliath frank capra this is america speeches either. you want to play that game? channeling joel stein:

People come to America for the same reason that A-Rod wanted to join the Yankees: both are well-run organizations with long histories of success. "I felt the allure of the tradition and the opportunity to win," said Rodriguez. People confuse pity with morality, but, as America has been arguing explicitly for several decades, there is nothing amoral about strength if it is used properly. The Yankees have good players, and the Romans made awesome aqueducts. Do you really think it makes you a better person to wish success upon a team with bad management, poor decision making and lesser talent?

... Every team has its creation myth: the Cubs teach the value of loyalty through suffering; the Red Sox, that every day is a new opportunity; the Expos, that for Canada, World's Fairs are exciting as it gets. The Yankees are the only team that teaches the true story of our country — that might mixed with class, talent and hard work often breeds success. Also, that pinstripes have a slimming effect. Except on David Wells.


1:45 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

i'm not looking for a new england

excuse me, but i vividly recall making the decision NOT to live in boston. so the hell is this?

"Closer to Scoring a Date With the Red Sox"
"Red Sox Get a Rare Happy Ending"
"Once Again, the Red Sox Have to Push That Rock Up the Hill"
"Moving Along With Jeter as a Crutch"

NEW YORK times? hello? i know all about the sox part-owning blah blah blah, but that shits fucked up.
12:47 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

"I am invited to Old Timers' Day to stand out on that field not because I was a regular player who was an All-Star," Leyritz said by phone yesterday. "I am there because in October I did something special."

This is what I have told Alex Rodriguez during what has been a season-long dialogue about life in the baseball Bronx. Monday night against the Blue Jays in July matters. And then again, it really doesn't matter at all. Rodriguez is the most curious, aware athlete I have encountered in two decades, probably too curious and aware in fact, since he was all too familiar with every slap and slight during what at many times appeared his overburdened, underachieving first season as a Yankee.[ny post]

i've appreciated you, little alex.
1:22 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

"This upper-Midwestern crowd will be loud, but not as rude as they are in New York." - Gary Miller

9:11 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

"I don't know how much of this my heart can take. "

- crazy. how often do you get to see the formidable hands of two, no, three, because i will count tom gordon, of the best closers in baseball become shaky and vulnerable all in one game? and who would have thought jon lieber, perhaps the rotations biggest question mark at the beginning of the season, capable of buckling down and keeping his first postseason appearance in check? and tanyon sturtze? do i need to say anything other than tanyon sturtze? how satisfying was it to see derek jeter park one in the black for run number one, and then plant his foot on the plate and leap for joy at having scored the winning run? how gratifying was it to see the heretofore fumblingly unsure alex rodriguez rediscover his swagger under the oft unforgiving october lights? and his game tying ground rule double bouncing back into the park only to be sent out again, this time at the frustrated hands of erstwhile minny adonis hero torii hunter... the slumping gary sheffield tying the game early, hitting foul bombs, itching to hit something, anything; hideki matsui giving tommy heinrich a run for the nickname ol' reliable, by quietly doing what he's done all year. mo faltering, and the people around him picking him up, as he's done for them so often. 2001 made me hesitant to believe in any kind of magic or fate, but games like this... games like this make me believe in hope, and believe in this team.

- funny how we wear our own bias colored glasses: batgirl saw the espn guys as insufferable because hears them as pro-yankeefied jeter lovahs, while i wanted to punch joe morgan in the throat for the nonstop swooning over the little-ball minny lovefest. 'course, for me, any reason to punch joe morgan in the throat is a good one. if it makes me pine for michael kay, you know it's baaaaaad. whither dr hibbert ken singleton?

- which brings me to this: the only thing i hate about postseason baseball is being subjected to the national announcers. mccarver and joe morgan? my god. i'm kind to the elderly, i love my momma, i don't do the drugs. what did i do to deserve this?

- anyway. another fantabulous female baseball blogger is ms karen, who was lucky enough to be in the hizzouse last night and wrote up her lovely and amazing experience. left me breathless and a little jealous. okay, a lot jealous.

and maybe best of all: mike lupica having to write about it. lick it up, runt.

"They were dead, the place was dead," ESPN's Joe Morgan said. "And then it was alive."

Jeter was next. He had begun the game with the longest home run he has ever hit at the Stadium, one way up into the black in the bottom of the first, after the Twins had gone ahead 1-0. Then they went ahead 3-1. Gary Sheffield tied it with a two-run homer. Then A-Rod went deep. Got that RBI single later. At this point he had five hits in the first two games against the Twins. Should have had one more, thought he had one more in Game1 until Torii Hunter grabbed one off him at the top of the wall in right-center. It should have been his night right there.

Then Tom Gordon and Mo Rivera couldn't hold a 5-3 lead in the eighth and Hunter went deep in the 12th.

Nathan walked Jeter on four pitches.

First and second, one out.

A-Rod at the plate.

This was what he had come to New York for, games like this, a chance to show what he can do when it is all on the line. When he was asked to deliver the way Jeter always had. Rodriguez had lost to the Yankees in the playoffs when he was with the Mariners. Then he had watched Jeter and the rest of them from last place. Now here was one more chance to join the party.

Win a game like this.

Nathan threw him a ball and then a strike and then A-Rod hit one toward the "399 ft." sign, white on blue, in deep left-center. On the way to the monuments. On the way to the other great Yankees. Rodriguez came out of the batter's box as though he thought he had hit another home run, done a Reggie turn to end this one. But the ball stayed in the air a long time. Not as long as that big high moon shot he had hit over the left-field wall to make it 4-3 in the fifth. But long enough that you thought Shannon Stewart could catch it, just because you are conditioned by now to watch.

Stewart didn't catch this one. The ball jumped over the wall or Jeter would have scored easily behind Cairo with the winning run. He had to go back to third. A-Rod stayed at second. It was 6-all. Nathan walked Sheffield intentionally. You could see A-Rod standing there on second base, looking around, the crowd crazy now, knowing the Yankees were about to even the series.

Knowing this was another one of those nights.

Ron Gardenhire brought in J.C. Romero to pitch to Hideki Matsui. Matsui, one of the money Yankees even if he doesn't make A-Rod money, or Jeter money, hit the first pitch he saw from Romero on a line to Jacque Jones in right. The ball got on him so fast and so hot, it seemed to knock him back. He threw to the cutoff man instead of throwing all the way home, as if obsessed with getting rid of the ball.

"I got the ball, I got rid of it," Jones kept saying afterward.

Jeter slid across home plate. Home run into the black to start, a slide in the dirt to end it. Yankees 7, Twins 6. A-Rod had a night. He kept downplaying it afterward. He had his Yankee night. Series even.
5:54 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

either love me, or leave me alone.

i didn't turn on the television expecting a win.

certainly i didn't expect that last night's game would be utterly winnable, that moose would pitch a sharper game than cy santana, or that the yankees would ultimately beat themselves. disappointing.

while i'm on disappointment - i do believe i missed the memo about taking loaiza in halsey's place? i still have stever karsay in my basement, so yall get a free pass there. i don't even bother questioning the heredia thing anymore.


7:43 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

rotoworld: "Orlando Hernandez played catch today. He'll probably throw out of the pen tomorrow or Wednesday.
Hernandez is penciled in as the Yankees' Game 3 starter. "I feel better today than two days ago," he said. "I don't need 100 percent. I can throw my fastball. I can throw my curve. I can throw my slider. I can throw my changeup." Oct. 4 - 9:55 pm et"

do the duque? cautiously optimistic? i like question marks? which means i love the yankees rotation? ZING :D
10:51 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

predictions make me crazy. baseball is a fickle critter. there's little to be declared with any degree of authority, of certainty. what did lefty gomez say? "i would rather be lucky than good?" at any rate, here's to the bloops and the hanging curves and inches and gaps and wind going new york's way.

here is my bold prediction: the yankees will either break my heart, or they won't.
6:22 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

Last season, Mussina struck out 10 Red Sox in Game 4 of the A.L.C.S. at Fenway Park. But he lost, 3-2, and his rational side gave in to the result. Mussina stewed in the training room, letting the team bus leave without him.

He walked back to the team hotel with Borzello, replaying excruciating details. "He was just beyond dealing with it," Borzello said.

Three games later, Mussina saved the season. Pitching from the bullpen for the first time in his career, Mussina relieved Clemens in Game 7 at Yankee Stadium, escaping a two-on, no-out jam in the fourth and working two more scoreless innings.

The Yankees' comeback redeemed Mussina, who beamed in the wild postgame celebration. It was the first time, Borzello said, that he had seen Mussina smile that way.

Several Yankees called it the greatest victory of the era, the most satisfying and thrilling. Borzello encouraged Mussina to take it all in, assuring him that not even a World Series championship would compare.

After the flurry of Champagne and shaving cream, souvenir caps and TV lights, the players and coaches scattered. Mussina sat with Borzello by a corner locker, frozen for an hour, savoring the moment until 2:30 a.m. He was the last player to leave the clubhouse.
[ny times]


7:36 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

"People make fun of baseball fans because they can get so eloquent about how much they love the game," Joe Torre said. "Look, I know I make my living at this game. It's been a part of my life for 50 years. But just look at everything you're getting out of the game this week. What other sport can beat that? What other sport can top that? It's one-of-a-kind in so many ways."
5:34 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

nice piece on mr hardcore himself in the hartford courant.
8:03 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

jesus christ

As for Hernandez, whose shoulder has been bugging him for more than a week and who had to muscle up to get his fastball to 88 mph in his three-inning stint Friday night, the plan is for him to play catch tomorrow at Yankee Stadium. If he feels like he can pitch, the Yankees will put him on the roster for the Division Series. If not, there's a chance he'll be left off.

"The question mark is El Duque, although my gut feeling is he'll be all right," Stottlemyre said. "I don't know when the deadline is, but I think he'll be a last-minute decision."

7:13 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

i heart moose



also, i heart sheff. him on the mad rush to home plate to do the silly group-hop thing: "I didn't know what to do. I was looking around, and I figured I'd just follow Jeter."


6:39 PM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

interesting bit on worcester's own in newsday.
11:48 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink

expanding on the last theme

why bernie?

because he is ours, in a way that even derek jeter is not. in a way that people who assume yankee fan=bandwagoner won't understand.

Williams stood in the center of the room, swarmed by
reporters, as Derek Jeter kidded him.

"We got a plane to catch!" Jeter hollered.

Williams giggled, television lights shining in his face, not quite
ready for Toronto. "I'm stuck!" he cried.

It was a rare sight this season: Williams as the center of
attention. [ ny times]

"I really believe I'm part of something bigger than
just me," he was saying, as the celebration continued all around him.
"Playing for the Yankee organization, playing for the history that
comes with it, it's not about the numbers, or records, or anything
like that. It's about winning.

"That's the way I've always felt, and that's the way this team has
always played over the years. That's why we win."

As always, Bernie spoke softly, in this case as softly as anyone could
possibly speak with champagne being sprayed throughout a noisy locker
room. With his classical music training, his quiet manner, he has
never been your typical major leaguer.

In some clubhouses, he may never have been allowed to flourish. As a
young Yankee more than a decade ago he was teased for being too
gentle, to the point of crying. But then the Yankees cleaned house,
made character and team-oriented players a priority, and Bernie fit
perfectly. [ daily news ]
11:42 AM :: 0 comments ::

lupe! :: permalink